The Last Days of Melbrum

T.L.S.O.M

Meanwhile… Haskel Quartzheart, Dorrandir, and his wolf lay awaiting their friends at the Prowl Orc family camp, they found themselves attacked by four Ogres and over twenty sling weilding goblins. Beside two dozen Prowl family warriors they stood, and together smote their would-be ambushers easily. Clearly only a skirmishing force, the attack provoked immediate reprisal from from the locals and PCs, once Firenze, Crimnox, Groddic, Tara, and “miss-punch” returned.

…Meanwhile, Seito, and elven magus, accompanied by Mo, an awakened panda bear, both from the eastern Violet Lotus kingdom were inching ever closer to their destination of Thris. They hadn’t seen any travellers on the northern imperial roads for over a week and were growing a little bored…when a elaborately adorned and well armed traveller passed them on the road. For a moment the three talked and Seito was capable of discerning the lie that was the man’s identity. And when petitioned for his real name introduced himself as Ronam Kenjutsu, a criminal leaving the Empire returning to the Violet Lotus. He called himself a “Demon killer” and when his name brokered little response, Ronam chose to continue on his wayward path alone…….Not long after their strange encounter with the ronin, did the elf and bear hear a series of concusive blasts and cries of battle up the road in their intended direction. Choosing to stop where they were, the sounds eventually died away and over a dozen half naked unarmed goblins came sprinting down the roadway towards them. Mo tripped one, the others didn’t look back and continued down the road. When interrogated for further information regarding current affairs, the goblin admitted to being a member of a much larger force currently retreating from an attack they had made on the nearby town of Thris. The two released the goblin, and hurried down the roadway to their intended destination.

It, wasn’t long after their fight with the four ogres that the friends reconvened at the Orc camp. Just in-time to meet two other travellers named Seito and Mo. Quite interesting fellows indeed, recently arrived in town. With a lust for some form of excitement the two fell in rank and file quickly with the other PCs, hoping at a chance to kill more Ogres, camped not but 10 miles north of the town.
Together, Firenze, Dorrandir, Groddic, Bob, Tara, Haskel, Seito, Crimnox, Mo, Hwrothrim Prowl, and his three children set off in the early afternoon to make the Ogre camp before nightfall. To the surprise of the PCs, the Prowls rode direwolves into the fray, to aid their war efforts greatly with vicious biting charges.
The journey was short and uneventful, until the PCs arrived at a small fortified camp, where the Ogres madce their shelter. Their were nine of them, all deeply enthralled in the rallying speech of their Troll cheif. Who claimed to have a divine power over fire, gifted him by the witch of Ogreden, named Thrrihara. Choosing their battlefield cautiouslly, Dorrandir devised a complex snare trap upon the roadway to slow the Ogre advance. And when the Ogres emerged from their encampment, found themselves much delayed indeed. Attacked on all sides, the PCs were well prepared to face their enemy. Burning their seige engine, summoning acid elementals to occupy the strength of the vulnerable troll, hacking away at the goblin swarmed flanks, allowed for the Prowls to charge into the Ogre lines and cause large amounts of devastation. Despite the valorous afforts of our heroes, no war comes without loss…and Hwor Prowl, the first son of Hwrothrim, was laid to rest beside the forest road.

The Ogre's march part#1

Many of the players arrived in the town of Thris early in the day, seeking out the local tavern first for insider information. Whatever their motivations; gold, renown, answers, or inferiority complexes…they found quite a laundry list of troubles to contend with in town. It all started when a young elven priestess of Pelor by the name of Tara Soulblood wearing a mithral shirt purchased a round of ale for every soul in the bar. When she began to cast a spell however, Zaphir the proprietor demanded she cease her actions immediately or face violent consequence. Despite his intolerance, she warmed many hearts with her purchase and found several friendly faces to converse with. Among them was Firenze Harpsi, a halfling woman specializing in the arcane arts of fire, a brutal looking half orc warrior by the name of Groddic Blackjaw, another elf man of the wilds with a wolf of abnormal size by his side(both uncommon sights in these parts) who went by the name of Dorrandir, and a quiet hooded human man, well armed and armored sitting alone at the bar. He calls himself Bob, also another dwarf besides Zaphir, wearing heavy travelling equipment and a well-made Imperial musket introduced himself as Haskel Quartzheart. He claimed to be from the far mountain Azar clan, a hunetr seeking “larger” game.
To ease the situation…Zaphir the proprietor brought in his exotic dancers, four clearly human, and one a beautiful Nymph by the name of Velna. All however wore ankle irons,Velna’s were gold, limiting thier mobility greatly. A fifth human man, adorned in simple peasants clothes then entered the room playing a lute for the lusty dancers…
After a minute or two of music a sorceror by the name of Crimnox entered the tavern, he too began to play, upon a wooden pan-pipe, and vastly superior to the talents of the tavern slave.
When the proprietor and several others inquired to who he was, he proudly announced himself and shortly after struck up a commisioned contract to preform at the establishment that night. When the hooded human however stood and said " you are no sorceror", a test of talent ensued. Wherein Crimnox blinded everyone within the bar for several short moments. Enraged by the event, the barbarian sitting beside his new elven friends, flew into a beastial outburst where he overturned a table and vaulted a barstool across the room. When his blindness subsided however, Groddic could see the error of his actions and quietly put his head down. Bob on the other hand, regaining his eyesight, threw a gauntleted fist at Crimnox’s face…only his agility spared him. But after the miss, the Prowl family of Orcs sitting at a private table in the corner burst into furious laughter and dubbed Bob “miss-punch”. The humor seemed to loosen the mood and in no time after that everyone was sharing drinks and talking of Ogres.
…Hwrothrim Prowl, father to the three adult half orcs accompanying him unexpectadly supported Zaphir when the preistess of Pelor again attempted to cast a spell when the barkeep slipped Groddic “the best booze in the house”. Despite having earleir being paid 10 GOLD, and assuring Tara she could “cast whatever she wanted”, Zaphir was quite irritated with THIS spell attempt. For clearly some darker intention would have been uncovered had Tara succeeded. A chain of “I’m your man occurred” to the point where almost the whole bar was involved and things quickly could have spiralled out of hand. But they didnt, and the PCs left with the Prowl family putting greivances aside when Zaphir demanded the priestess and her supporters leave. Again the talk returned to Ogres, and the now sickly Groddic.
Arriving at the Orcs camp, just north outside of town, Tara was capable of determining the weak presence of necromancy magic subsiding in her new orc friends belly. Aware of the treachery and clear breach in magical legislation many in the party chose to return to the tavern to give Zaphir a piece of their minds…but not until Groddic was tended to by the Prowl clan’s Wood’s witch Vlagya. A venerable peverse orc crone, who demanded only that Groddic enter her tent and she would destroy the evil within him…
No other soul entered the tent, but many whispers occured and assumptions were made by all after an hour had passed.
Bob, Tara, Firenze, Groddic, and Crimnox all returned to the tavern after Groddic emerged from the tent…only to find the doors locked and windows shuttered and bolted from within. When hammering the door did nothing the PCs began to shout loudly to draw attention. At that the door swung outward and a man all in full plate and helm towered within the frame. When no entry or answers seemed avaiable, the PCs forced entry by utilizing a zone of truth and alerting the guardsman to his folly of answering where Zaphir was. THEREWAS A FIREFIGHT!!!!! as the PCs filed through the doorway, they found themselves bombarded by crossbowmen positioned behind the bar and across the stairwell bannister. Needless to say, great heros made short work of such cowards. And when the bloodshed had ended only one stood alive. All others had their throats slit or were burnt alive. The one surviving spilled his guts and life story hoping for mercy and the PCs uncovered the first link in an illegal smuggling ring of onyx merchants. When they had what they needed, the captive too was killed, mercilfully…

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Thris beginning

“…It is abit cold today, colder than usual in the far north. On the third new moon of the year 4998 A.O.T.(Age of Thestian), in early spring, just after the thawing of the great Icecrown river, many supernatural events have occured. Miners in the town of Thris have been disappearing by the dozen, and worse yet the Ogres and Kobold clans of the Ogreden, beyond Imperial borders, have grown more daring. Attacks have been made across the mountain ridge against imperial soldiers and dangerously close to the town. Knights have come from Blizzardroost castle to assist, but their hoofed mounts serve little purpose upon the rocky peaks. And worse yet rumors of a powerful lycanthrope and demon worshipping cult have arisen amongst the locals. Adventurers from all over have flocked to the area to carve out a reputation for themselves, but as of yet there has been no progress in solving any of these bizzare events… Is there no one who can help?”
-Baron Veronicus Hyperion